


How'd You Tame Your Dragon?

by WrittenByMe_C



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Discussion of illness and failed attempts at trying for a baby, Draco is a bit OOC, Five Years Later, I feel like there's deffo still hints of him there though, I would tag them all but my go there are SO MANY, M/M, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Other Weasley children marriages, Please give the pairing a chance, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, but it's because he develops pre-fic, okay these tags are too long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenByMe_C/pseuds/WrittenByMe_C
Summary: It's been five years since the war ended and Draco Malfoy disappeared from the UK after being pardoned. Nobody knows where he went, and now nobody knows why he's back. Or why he's being so...nice.ORThe five times The Golden Trio + Ginny bump into a very different Draco Malfoy, and the one time they figure out why.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 175





	How'd You Tame Your Dragon?

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with this pairing while writing my Draco/Luna fic - their dynamic was just too good to pass up. Don't worry, Druna still holds that number one spot in my heart but I needed to write this before I exploded !!!
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags - some sensitive topics are discussed toward the end of the fic!

  1. **Saturday**



Five years after the second wizarding war and Diagon Alley was blossoming. Every storefront had reopened, some newer businesses finding their way in amongst the more established ones, and the street itself was bustling with wizards and witches alike. Ollivander’s was restored to its former glory, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was bursting with laughter, and Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour was now being run by Dean and Seamus Thomas. It was almost like the street had come alive; it was thriving like never before. It wasn’t that odd to find most of the UK wizarding population there on a Saturday afternoon.

So, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise to the Golden Trio and Ginny, when hulking around bags full of baby items for the growing bump on Ginny’s front, that they would run into Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that he hadn’t been seen anywhere in the UK since his trial after the war.

“Malfoy?” Harry asked in surprise, shifting the bags in his hands so that he had a better grip.

The blond man stared at the four of them for a long second, his fingers twitching over his pocket before a small smile relaxed his features. They looked at each other in shock. If the smile hadn’t knocked them all sideways then the realisation that Draco Malfoy was wearing muggles clothes surely did. The jumper he was wearing looked familiar, but they couldn’t place it; must have just seen it in a store window at some point. One of the cuffs was looser than the other, a few threads pulled out; Malfoy’s fingers rubbed at it.

“Potter, how are you? I hear you’re working your way up the ladder in the Ministry. Auror, right?” Malfoy’s whole demeanour was different. Softer, somehow, despite the angular shapes of his face. His face that was still smiling.

“Uh…” Harry felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach, but it was new – not the same feeling he used to get back in sixth-year. More like the feeling he had while watching _Edward_ _Scissorhands_ or the trailer for the new Nicole Kidman film, _Stepford Wives_. What was the Muggle concept that Hermione associated the feeling with? ‘Uncanny Valley’, maybe? The woman in question poked him in the back to get him to speak, “Yes! Kingsley said if I keep going at this rate, I’ll make head Auror before I’m thirty. How did you-”

“That’s brilliant, truly.” Malfoy interrupted, _still smiling_. He turned to Hermione and Ron, “Did you two really have two weddings? That must have cost a fortune.” The usual sneer that came with Malfoy talking about money didn’t appear. In fact, he seemed genuinely interested. Ron grunted, glaring at the blond, and Hermione cleared her throat, narrow eyes not leaving Malfoy’s face.

“They were just small ceremonies, but yes. One for my muggle relatives and one for Ron’s magical ones.” She said, her body stiff. Something flickered in Malfoy's expression at the mention of Ron's family and while the Trio and Ginny prepared for a fight, Malfoy simply kept talking.

“I’m sure if they knew the effort that you went to, to include them, they’d be very grateful.” Malfoy was starting to look uncomfortable, beginning to notice the resistance on their side of the conversation.

Ron mumbled some sort of excuse, pointing in the general direction of Flourish and Blott’s, and he and Hermione slipped away after Malfoy offered a meek goodbye. He turned back to Harry and Ginny; the latter of whom was beginning to get tired from standing for so long. Malfoy seemed to notice this as his eyes widened.

“Oh, I forgot, congratulations on the kid!” He said, the corners of his mouth turning up. His smile was still small, but it was genuine and wasn’t that just the weirdest thing ever? “I’ll let you two get on, I-”

A quiet but insistent beeping cut him off, and Harry’s eyes nearly fell out of his skull as Malfoy pulled out what was clearly a mobile phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He smiled down at the small screen and held up a finger at Harry and Ginny as he lifted the phone to his ear.

“I’m outside the bookshop. ~ No, another one, newer. ~ I won’t be long. ~ Like fifteen minutes. ~ No, I won’t get lost; it’s been five years, not five decades. ~ Do you want me to- ~ Yes, the one about the Welsh- ~ Of course. ~ Love you too. ~ Bye.”

The conversation was quick, and rather boring on their end, except for that last bit. Ginny and Harry exchanged an incredulous look.

“I really have to go; I’ll get moaned at otherwise.” Malfoy rolled his eyes fondly. “It was great to catch up, Potter, see you around!”

And then he was disappearing inside the newest bookshop on Diagon Alley. Harry blinked after him but didn’t have a chance to follow him in and find out what was going on before Ginny let out a low groan and started down the crooked street toward where Ron and Hermione were waiting for them.

“That was weird, right?” Ginny asked as they approached her brother and her sister-in-law. “The ‘new and improved’ Draco Malfoy?” Hermione nodded in earnest, wide-eyed. 

“Did you see what he was wearing? Muggle clothes! And when I spoke about my family, he didn’t even so much as _twitch_ with disgust.” She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as much as she could with them being weighed down by shopping bags.

“That’s not even half of it, ‘Mione.” Harry said, leaning in close. “He had a mobile phone _and -_ whoever phoned him – he said _I love you_ to them.”

Ron snorted, “That explains it then.” Everyone turned to him with confused expressions. “He’s gone and fallen for a muggle, hasn’t he? Maybe he was cursed or something. Where did he go after his trial anyway? Probably pissed someone off there.”

Harry shrugged, “The tracking spell was only for three months, and the records say he spent all that time at the Manor. After that, I’ve no clue.”

“Do you really think he’s fallen for a muggle?” Ginny asked, scepticism lacing her voice. Hermione looked just as dubious, clearly remembering the way Malfoy had spoken about her and her heritage at Hogwarts.

Harry shrugged again, “Anything’s a possibility nowadays, don’t you think? I doubt he’s cursed, Ron, but he wouldn’t have been talking to a muggle – the person knew where he was, how long he’d been away. They-”

“Couldn’t possibly know that unless they were magic, otherwise he’d have broken all sorts of laws by telling them.” Hermione finished the thought, clearly having meant to have done so in her head. She gave Harry a sheepish smile and a mouthed _sorry_. He laughed, then pushed his friends back down Diagon Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron. They could speculate later - for now, he needed a warm drink and his wife needed to sit down.

  1. **Monday**



Harry was early to work on Monday, for what must have been the twentieth time that month. If Kingsley caught him wandering the halls of the Ministry of Magic at this time _again_ then there was a strong chance that he’d actually get _de_ moted at the next performance meeting. He was quite content to wait outside, leaning against a building, but when the first raindrop fell, he decided not to risk ruining his hair – Ginny had finally found a spell to get it to lay flat for longer than an hour.

The café across the road had always looked inviting. Tall glass windows showed a lively atmosphere at night, a subdued one in the morning. He was happy it was morning; he’d been living with a pregnant Weasley for the past five months; he didn’t need any more liveliness. It was warm when he stepped inside, a stark contrast to the icy chill of the December air outside. They still had their Christmas special running, despite it being four days since the holiday, so Harry asked for a mince pie with his nutmeg coffee.

He turned around to find a seat and was surprised to see a familiar blond head in the corner. He made his way over without thinking.

“Malfoy.” The blond looked up from his book – a new-looking muggle one. _Inkheart_ , the cover revealed when Malfoy put the book down and gestured for Harry to join him. He did, but only because he’d initiated the conversation and it would have been weird otherwise.

“I go by Draco now, if you don’t mind.” Malfoy – Draco – said, taking a sip of his horrendously sugary-looking drink.

“In that case, no more _Potter_ nonsense.” Harry said, not quite believing the friendliness of the conversation.

“But it’s so fun to say, _Potter_.” Draco smirked, but without the malice that Harry had grown accustomed to over their years at school.

“Why are you here?” He asked, hoping it didn’t come out accusatory. He wasn’t exactly against this new, friendlier, Draco Malfoy, and he didn’t know how fragile it was – he didn’t want to be the reason it broke. But Draco just smiled again, as he had at his phone in Diagon Alley two days ago.

“I have to pick something up for-”

“Harry James Potter!” A booming voice called from the door of the café. Harry jumped in his seat and debated with himself about pretending if heard or not. Unfortunately, the voice didn’t give him a choice. “I can see you, clear as day, Potter. Come on, if you’re going to insist on being early you might as well use the time wisely. And I wouldn't say no to that mince pie.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Kingsley and offered a sheepish smile and a small shrug. The Minister shook his head fondly and gestured that he’d be waiting outside. Harry turned back to Draco.

“Go.” Draco said with a laugh, “How would our world cope without Harry Potter?”

As Harry fell into step beside Kingsley, passing him the mince pie and making his way down to the Ministry toilets, he couldn’t seem to shake that laugh from his mind. It was just so _weird_.

  1. **Tuesday**



St. Mungo’s smelled too clean and Ginny _hated_ it. She’d always hated it; when she was seven and broke her wrist falling off a broom; when she was eleven and being checked over after the events of her first year; when she was fourteen and visiting her father; when she was seventeen and standing with her family waiting for her missing brother’s body to be released; and now, at twenty-two, five months pregnant and sitting in a waiting room without her bloody husband.

She’d been there for over an hour and had already read every magazine available to her; including the _Quidditch Quarterly_ that she’d had delivered at home the week before. Josephine Quagmire’s face smiled up at her from the front cover, waving the snitch in victory, dark green robes floating behind her as she looped in the air and Captain badge glinting in the flash of the camera. Ginny glared at the title – _Holyhead Harpies Victory Within Thirty Minutes_ – and flipped the magazine over. She was going to return to that bloody team if only to wipe that smug grin of off Quagmire’s face.

Ginny’s pondering of whether revenge via broom or bludger would be better was interrupted by the doors to the Fertility and Maternity department swinging open. She glanced up to see who it was, hoping that it would at least be someone interesting enough to keep her entertained until her appointment – _which was meant to happen twenty minutes ago_.

Long legs carried Draco Malfoy into the waiting room, a nervous look on his face. Next to him, gripping his arm tightly, was a girl that Ginny vaguely recognised. Another pureblood Slytherin, probably, from their time at Hogwarts, and though Ginny couldn’t quite remember her name she did know that they had been in the same year. They shared most of their classes together. Pregnancy brain fog was the worst - _what is her name?_

They walked slowly to the reception, the girl looking unsteady on her feet. Ginny would have offered to help but she hadn’t been spotted yet and she didn’t quite know if she wanted to have a conversation with Malfoy again so soon after Saturday. That was weird enough for a lifetime.

Malfoy and the receptionist spoke in hushed tones and Ginny couldn’t hear a word they were saying which was _so annoying_. If she was going to be waiting for over an hour to see her doctor, then the least the universe could do was provide her with some gossip. Malfoy and the girl moved to the seating area, choosing two chairs that thankfully faced away from her. She’d decided that she really didn’t want to have a conversation with him; especially because it would be awkward that she couldn’t remember the girl’s name.

No sooner had they sat than the doctor – _Ginny’s_ doctor! – had opened her office door and called them in. They stood, slowly, yet again, and Malfoy helped the girl shuffle over. As they neared the door – closer to Ginny but thankfully not causing her to be in their line of sight – the doctor looked between Malfoy and the girl with sad eyes.

“ _Oh, Astoria_.” The doctor sighed and helped guide them the rest of the way into the consultation room.

Ginny immediately rummaged in her bag for the mobile phone Hermione had made her get three years prior when she played her first World Cup overseas.

“It’s Greengrass!” She said as soon as Harry picked up. “The one from my year, Astoria.”

“What is?” He said distractedly.

“Malfoy’s girl! They’re here.” She kept her voice quiet, almost a hiss, not wanting anyone to overhear her gossiping like her mother.

“What? They’re pregnant?”

“Trying, by the looks of it.”

“But Draco hasn't been here for-”

“ _Exactly_ , it makes no sense! And they got in before me even though I turned up first.” She said with a grumpy frown, glaring at the receptionist who was painting her nails a hideous shade of green. Luna would like it, Ginny thought distantly.

Harry hummed, back to focusing on whatever it was he was doing at work, “That’s great, Gin. I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, yeah, just you wait, Harry. When I re-tell you this later, you’re gonna be so mad you’re distracted right now.” She said with a smile, knowing he wasn’t listening.

“Love you too,” Harry said before kissing into the phone and hanging up. Ginny shook her head fondly and decided to make a paper crane out of the front page of _Quidditch Quarterly_.

  1. **Wednesday Morning**



Hermione was in the lift for the eighth time that day already and it was only ten A.M. She appreciated the job that Kingsley gave her, of _course_ she did, and it would surely help her work up the Ministry ladder. But she was being spread as thin as they could get her, demanding her presence in a different department every thirty minutes. Although, she supposed that wearing heels was a poor choice, given that she knew her days usually went like this.

“Hold the lift!” A familiar voice called as the doors started to close on the fourth floor. Being the only person in the lift, and having been raised right, Hermione shot her hand out to stop the door from closing, allowing Draco Malfoy to step inside.

“Hello,” Draco said, nodding at Hermione like they were old friends. She supposed, in a way they were. Of course, when they were younger, they despised each other – and for good reason on her side – but compared to other people she went to Hogwarts with, people she shared a room with for six years, he really was more of a friend than most. She said hello back, shuffling the papers in her hands as the lift started to move.

And then it stopped.

“What? No! No, no, no, I needed to be there five minutes ago!” She ran a hand through her hair, making it even bushier. Beside her, Draco stifled a laugh. She shot a glare at him, but then caught her reflection in the mirrored wall behind him and started laughing herself. She really did look hilarious; hair practically exploding from one side of her head, a streak of ink down the left side of her nose, and considerably shorter than the man beside her as her heels lay discarded beside her bare feet.

“If it makes you feel any better, I came to pick these up on Monday. Confused the poor receptionist.” Draco said, holding up his own papers. Hermione caught a glimpse of the top of the page – _Reserv_ _ă_ – before the papers were folded and put inside Draco’s jacket. “People get things wrong; it’s only human.”

“That’s- That actually does help, thank you.” Hermione took a deep breath and started flattening down her hair a bit.

_The lift will be working again shortly, sorry for the delay_. A raspy voice echoed in the small space.

“So, magical creatures?” Hermione asked, noting what floor they had been on before.

“Ah, not for me,” Draco said with a small smile, patting his pocket. “My partner needed me to pick them up.”

“You’re seeing someone? For how long?”

“Five years tomorrow,” Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Wow. You met when you moved?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be special.”

Draco smiled again, “Yeah. I’m uh, actually I was wondering. What was it like, meeting the Weasley’s for the first time? As Ron’s girlfriend, I mean.”

Hermione was confused, “Why?”

“I’m meeting my partner's family for the first time tonight-”

“After five years!?” She was mildly scandalised, and Draco chuckled awkwardly, “Why didn’t you-”

“We live so far away! He rarely came home as it was; it’s not entirely my fault!” Draco defended himself with an embarrassed smile. Suddenly his facial expression changed to one of apprehension and fear. Hermione couldn’t quite figure out what had gone wrong, they’d been having a friendly conversation and-

“Oh.”

Draco wouldn’t look her in the eye anymore. It was weird, seeing him so vulnerable after all the years that he had tormented her. Part of her wanted to let him squirm; a part of her she didn’t like and reminded her of an old locket. She took a deep breath, and reached her hand up, resting it on his shoulder awkwardly. He looked at her sharply, with wide eyes.

“Did you know Dean and Seamus own Fortescue’s now? Their girl is almost one and she’s the biggest baby I’ve ever seen. I told them not to feed her ice cream every day, but they just don’t listen.” She rolled her eyes fondly, squeezed his shoulder, and let her hand drop back to her side.

“I- I didn’t, no,” Draco said quietly, relaxing his shoulders. “Surely that’s not healthy for the baby.”

“I keep telling them that but-” Hermione shrugged in time with the lift coming back to life and carrying on its journey to the Atrium.

They rode in silence, the journey taking slightly longer than usual as the lift got used to movement again. Hermione slipped her heels back on and attempted to flatten her hair again to no avail – she’d hunt Harry down and ask for the spell Ginny uses on him. As the lift crawled to a stop, Draco turned to Hermione with a determined look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He said, with such earnest that she almost stumbled where she stood. At her silence, he continued, “For everything, Hermione, truly. I’ve learnt a lot over the last few years, or perhaps _unlearnt_ would be a more apt descriptor. Either way, I was wrong about so many things and you bore the brunt of it. So, I’m _sorry_.”

He stepped out of the lift when the doors dinged and as more people pushed their way in Hermione fought to stay at the front of the space. She reached out a hand to stop the doors from closing, much to the annoyance of the other Ministry workers.

“Thank you, Draco. I really appreciate that.” He nodded at her, then turned and walked toward the Ministry floo network. Hermione let the door close and thought _how on Earth do I explain that to Ronald?_

  1. **Wednesday Night**



Ron was bloody sick of his sister and her constant mood swings. He knew Weasley’s were a handful -he was one himself for Merlin's sake - but _pregnant_ Weasley’s? He’d rather ask Charlie if he could help with the dragons. He hoped pregnant Granger’s were easier, but he had a strong feeling they wouldn’t be – not even a little bit. Still, the thought of having his own kid softened the idea; he imagined that was how Harry was feeling as well. Although why the man would want to host a New Year’s Eve party while his wife was five months pregnant was _beyond_ him. Ron had escaped outside when Ginny had started crying over the size of the crab cakes again (“ _They’re just so tiny, how are they so tiny?_ ”).

The square opposite Grimmauld Place was a nice place to sit and ruminate on one’s future, Ron found. The image of little Hugo running around catching butterflies in the summer and making snowmen in the winter while his Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny hosted holiday parties made his heart swell. He wasn’t going to tell Hermione that he’d already named their first son – the last thing on his wife’s mind at the moment was a child, she didn’t need the pressure of him wanting one. He was happy to wait until she was ready, and if that turned out to be never then that was okay; he’d be the best damn uncle in the world. Well, he hoped he would be the best uncle anyway, but he didn’t want to stretch himself too thin and besides, he had Charlie to compete with – the only single one left, and he had _dragons_.

Ron’s thoughts were cut off by the loud CRACK of someone Apparating close by and within seconds his wand was out. Everyone had turned up already; his mum and dad were already there, having temporarily moved in just before Christmas to help Ginny out; Bill, Fleur, Victoire, and Dominique had arrived that morning; George and Angelina came with baby Fred around midday; himself and Hermione came directly from work; Percy and Audrey turned up about an hour ago after dropping Molly off at her other grandmother’s house; Charlie arriving around fifteen minutes after them. They were all there, and, okay, Harry said quite a few magical-folk lived in the area now but he was trained to be aware, alert, so that’s what he was doing. Being alert. _Not paranoid_ , he told the Hermione in his head who was scolding him with just a look.

He edged along the outskirts of the square toward where he heard the noise, keeping his wand out in front of him. The streetlamps were casting a soft orange glow every few metres, the sky having gone dark hours ago. It was nearing to eleven, his dad had passed out a few hours ago, George was getting teary-eyed already, and the last thing Ron needed was someone trying to take advantage of his family’s inebriated state to attack.

There was a rustling up ahead and Ron saw someone step through a gate and onto the street. He stepped through the gate he was closest too – just a few paces back – and came face-to-face with the person on the pavement.

“ _Malfoy._ ” Ron’s knuckles turned white around his wand. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard there was a party,” Malfoy said breezily, trying the step past him. Ron moved with him, blocking the path. Malfoy sighed, “Can I get past please?”

“Where’s your invitation?” Ron asked snidely, knowing that Harry hadn't sent any invitations out.

Malfoy patted his pockets dramatically, “Must have left it in my other jacket.” He rolled his eyes and tried to get past again, this time making it as far as the front gate before Ron could stop him. He grabbed the sleeve of Malfoy’s jacket as the blond muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” Ron asked gruffly, pulling at Malfoy’s sleeve, and backing him against the brick railing of the front steps.

“I was just saying the pass-”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione’s voice shattered the air around them. She was standing at the top of the stairs, hands on her hips, and a look on his face that reminded him too much of his mother. “What is going on?”

Ron grabbed at Malfoy again and shoved him so that he was facing Hermione, “Malfoy was trying to sneak into the party.”

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, before running a hand down her face and muttering something about Slughorn.

“I’m sure Harry just invited him after we all bumped into each other on Saturday, Ron.” She shrugged, tired, and went to turn around when Malfoy shook out of Ron’s grasp and went up a step.

“Actually, I’m-” Malfoy’s words were interrupted by the front door opening again and Charlie sticking his head around.

“Where's my brother, ‘Mione?” He asked with a grin, suspecting that his younger sibling was probably in trouble for ditching. He shifted his gaze to the bottom of the stairs. “Oh.”

Hermione looked at him, then back at Malfoy, then at her husband, and ran a hand down her face again, “Oh, Merlin.”

**+1. Wednesday Night cont.**

“I did text you that I was here,” Draco said, quickly, pulling his phone out and showing it to Charlie.

“My phone died like an hour ago and there aren’t any bloody sockets in this house. You’d think they’d have added them seeing as they have phones of their own.” Charlie rolled his eyes, stepping out from behind the door and making his way down the steps. He stood on the one above Draco, bringing them to almost the same height.

“Seriously, even standing a step above you, I’m only like an inch taller?” Charlie complained, dropping his head back with a groan.

Draco chuckled, “Oh stop moaning about it, would you? It’s been years.”

“Years and years of being the short one.” Charlie lamented dramatically, leaning his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“You’re not even that short, Charlie,” Hermione said from above them. They looked up at her, remembering that they weren't alone, and she shrugged, “What? You’re not! Not compared to Harry anyway.”

Charlie let out a bark of laughter and at Draco’s puzzled face he quickly explained that Harry had drunkenly decided to measure everyone’s height against a doorframe, and the Boy Who Lived was the second shortest by less than an inch – only just above Mrs Weasley.

“Thanks ‘Mione.” Charlie smiled at her and she nodded before shifting her gaze to the person who had been stood in silence behind them the whole time.

Ron didn’t look angry, which was surprising. Draco had half-expected to be hexed all the way back to Romania if he was honest. But the second-youngest Weasley was weirdly calm. Perhaps too calm, but Hermione didn’t seem worried, so Draco tried to quell the fear. Ron moved forward and Draco automatically grabbed Charlie’s hand.

“He’s not a dragon, babe.” Charlie chuckled quietly, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t mock me,” Draco muttered back. The first time a dragon had moved in front of him he’d grabbed Charlie’s hand and not let go for an hour out of fear. That was three months before they’d started dating. Charlie still thought it was hilarious.

“So,” Ron started, but he didn’t seem to know who he wanted to address first. He looked up at Hermione who must have encouraged him somehow because he turned back to them, zeroing his gaze on his brother, “You’re no longer the cool, single, dragon uncle.”

“Hey!” Charlie pouted, which looked rather comical on such masculine features. “I’m still two out of three! With an _extra_ dragon now!”

Charlie winked at Draco and Ron flicked his gaze over, “That’s gross.”

Draco’s stomach seized up but from the way that Charlie laughed he knew Ron didn’t mean them, as men, dating. He hadn’t had the best history with people from his past finding that out. His shoulder ached from the lingering curse Pansy had sent his way when she’d visited him two years ago.

“I- I don’t like the fact that I think I’m okay with this.” Ron said quickly. Charlie let go of Draco’s hand to wrap his younger brother in a hug.

Draco looked up at Hermione who had tears in her eyes. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, hoping that Charlie was right and that the hardest person to convince was now dealt with. The brothers pulled apart, pretending their cheeks weren’t wet, and Ron led the way up the stairs and into the house, Charlie linking his fingers with Draco’s as they followed.

Percy and Bill were the first to notice their brothers enter the living room with their partners. They glanced at each other briefly but, when they noticed that Ron didn’t seem to have a problem, they both gave a friendly nod to Draco, who nodded back whilst trying to ignore the Cornish pixies wreaking havoc in his stomach.

Angelina noticed next, elbowing George and Harry on either side of her to get their attention. Charlie made his way over to them, dragging a reluctant Draco behind him. Ron and Hermione had disappeared into the basement, Percy following after them. Bill muttered something vague about babies, picked up a sleeping Dominique from the sofa, and carried her upstairs. A soft cry was heard as a door opened and was muffled again when the door was shut.

“No bloody way,” George said, astonished, as he looked between Charlie and Draco and their joined hands. “I thought you didn’t do relationships, Charles?”

“I told you – my heart only has rooms for dragons.” Charlie winked and laughed at the unimpressed look George gave Angelina when she snorted.

Harry groaned, “Why do I get the feeling he makes jokes about your name all the time?”

“Literally _all the time_ , it’s insufferable.” Draco rolled his eyes fondly. The grip he had on Charlie’s hand loosened somewhat as he relaxed. Seven down, and – not including Fleur – three more family members to go.

“Not as insufferable as you stealing my jumpers.”

“When it’s minus eleven outside and I’m expected to feed a Welsh Green who hates me, I think I have the right to an extra jumper or two.”

Angelina raised an eyebrow, “A Welsh Green who hates you?”

“I _accidently_ ,” Draco sent a stern look to Charlie who rolled his eyes, “stepped on her tail when she was a baby and she’s never forgiven me.”

“When he says accidental-”

“Wait,” Harry said suddenly, “the jumper you were wearing in Diagon Alley! I knew it looked familiar!”

Draco nodded, “One of Mrs Weasley’s creations, I believe.”

Charlie groaned dramatically and buried his head into Draco’s shoulder, “One of my favourites - and I haven’t worn it in three years! You completely ruined the cuff last Christmas as well, but I can’t even be mad at you for it ‘cause it’s my bloody fault.”

Draco let go of Charlie’s hand to wrap his arm around him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. At the confused looks Charlie’s words received, Draco explained how last Christmas Charlie had fallen from one of the dragons while tending to a wound on her neck. While the fall itself hadn’t hurt him, the dragon had tried to help him by picking him up and accidently impaled him with one of her talons. He’d been laid up for weeks, out cold for at least one of them, and it had worried Draco so much that he’d picked up the nervous habit of rubbing the cuff of the jumper between his fingers. The first thing Charlie had said when he woke up was _what have you done to my bloody jumper?_

Angelina laughed at her old Captain’s priorities and excused herself to check on little Fred. She passed Ginny on her way out, the youngest Weasley standing in the doorway with an icy glare aimed right at Draco.

“Charlie, can I speak to you please? In private?” She asked, not taking her eyes off the Slytherin.

Charlie nodded at her, unbothered by the tone or the look, and gave Draco a kiss on the cheek before moving with Ginny into the dining room. Draco watched him go with a small smile, hoping that the conversation went well if not for his sake then for Charlie’s. Though he wouldn’t admit it, for fear of death by the hands of his brothers, Charlie loved his little sister the most, and if their relationship were ruined because of Draco he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Harry passed him a bottle of butterbeer, and they stood in a weirdly comfortable silence with George until Charlie appeared again in the doorway, running a hand through his hair. It had barely been ten minutes but he looked tired.

“Draco.” The man in question looked at him sharply and made his way over. Charlie lowered his voice, “She saw you at St Mungo’s with Astoria; we have to tell her.”

Draco took a sharp breath, “But Astoria-”

“I know. But she thinks you’re cheating – either with me or on me, she doesn’t care she just… she doesn’t want me to get hurt, Draco, and I don’t want her to hate you over this.”

Draco looked at the floor, then looked over his shoulder, “Potter,” The Boy Who Lived looked up from where he had been pretending his shoes were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen, “She’ll tell you anyway – follow us, please.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he gently pushed past Charlie and walked with his head held high into the dining room. Ginny glared at him as he sat down but his hands were steady, his pulse a normal beat. Charlie sat down next to him and took his hand on top of the table. Harry sat down next to Ginny after closing the door to the room.

“Let me start off by saying I would never hurt your brother. We’ve been together for five years-” Ginny’s eyes widened at that, and she grabbed Harry’s hand under the table, “-and, like all couples, we’ve had our ups and downs, but not once have I set out to harm him – emotionally or otherwise.

Draco took a deep breath, focusing on the way Charlie’s thumb was rubbing over his knuckles.

“Astoria and I are having a child together.” 

Ginny looked murderous. Harry winced as her grip tightened around his hand; he could have sworn he felt something pop.

“But we’re not together.” Draco continued, glad that he wasn’t interrupted. “It’s our intention to take the child back to Romania, raise them there.”

“And Astoria’s okay with that?” Ginny asked sharply, “Is she moving with you or are you ripping her child from her?”

“Gin,” Charlie said, a frown playing on his lips, “Biologically the kid will be Draco’s and Astoria’s but... We don’t think she’s going to be around, after the birth. We’re hoping for at least a couple months, but she knows there’s the chance she might never meet her child.”

“That’s barbaric! You can’t take a child from their mother-”

“Ginny,” Harry interrupted softly, realisation crossing his features, “I don’t think it’s their choice.

“She’s not well, Ginny.” Charlie squeezed Draco’s hand when the blond made a choking sound, “This is her only chance to have a kid, and even then, it might not happen.”

“What?” Ginny’s voice was small, ashamed of her outburst but more focused on the heartbreak of the situation.

“She found out from Pansy a year or so ago that I-” Draco cut himself off, still not quite used to saying the words. Everyone in Romania just _knew_ , and everyone here didn’t matter until now. “That I’m bisexual and in a long-term relationship with a man. She contacted me a little over five months ago expressing her wish to have a child and whether or not I would consider helping her. She’s been ill for quite some time, but they don’t know what it is; they don’t know how to help her. After-” He paused again to take a shuddering breath, “After the war, most of her family was imprisoned and the rest of them cut her off. She doesn’t agree with any of the pureblood rhetoric – never has done – but it meant she had practically no one to turn to. She’s lucky that Pansy can’t look past her own nose far enough to see that according to the other purebloods they shouldn’t be friends. Although, when Astoria told her about all this, I suspect their friendship was terminated rather quickly.”

“So, when is the baby due?” Ginny asked after a long silence.

“It isn’t,” Charlie said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat. “Not yet. We’ve been trying for the past few months but…”

“Wait have you been here without-” Ginny looked like she was about to burst into tears thinking that her brother had been so close without telling her.

“No!” Charlie was quick to reassure her. “No, Astoria came to stay with us in Romania for a while, but the colder months didn’t agree with her. We’re back for as long as it takes to have this kid. Or until…”

Ginny and Harry nodded. There was another long silence. Draco looked at Charlie with sad eyes; he really hated talking about this. It was heart-breaking to see Astoria so ill and so desperate but on top of that, the ache inside him for the family-that-might-not-be grew each day. Discussing the situation just exacerbated the feeling; reminded him that it could all be hopeless. Charlie sat forward again and rested his forehead against Draco’s, allowing the silence to speak for itself. He moved his spare hand on top of Draco’s, stopping the blond’s fingers from ruining yet another cuff. Draco turned his hand over, their fingers slotting together perfectly.

Harry cleared his throat and the two of them pulled away slowly and turned to look at him, “I feel like, with the drama and sadness of the situation we seemed to have completely glossed over the fact that you two are gonna have a kid.”

Draco was concerned that Ginny got whiplash at the speed she turned her head to look at them.

“Mum is going to _freak_ when she finds out. Merlin, Charlie Weasley having a kid – and with Draco Malfoy of all people! Nobody would have guessed this.” Ginny smirked.

Charlie sighed, “Gin, you can’t tell her.”

“What? Why not!?”

Draco’s perfect posture finally gave up on him and he slouched back in his seat, pulling a hand free and running it down his face. He paused for a second, fingers lingering on his lips like he was trying not to be sick.

“If it doesn’t work out... if Astoria…” He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds.

Charlie continued, “This is our only chance, Gin. We didn’t want people knowing until we were absolutely certain the kid was here to stay.”

“But surely there are others-”

Draco snorted, his lip curling, “You really think there are more people out there that would do this for me? After everything-” His eyes involuntarily flickered to his left arm and Charlie pressed closer into his side.

Before Ginny or Harry could respond the door to the dining room opened and George stuck his head around it, “Ten minutes to midnight guys. C’mon, everyone’s in the living room.”

They filed out of the dining room slowly, Draco and Charlie taking a second just for themselves before rejoining the party.

When George had said everyone was in the living room, he wasn’t kidding. Mr Weasley had been woken up from his slumber, Bill and Fleur had returned from checking on all the kids, and Mrs Weasley had finally emerged from the kitchen. The Weasley’s and their significant others were scattered around the room, some standing by the fireplace (Percy, Angelina, and Bill), some sat on the sofa and armchair (Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Fleur). Ron and Hermione were stood by the door and while George made his way over to his wife, Harry and Ginny joined their friends. Charlie moved to stand with them, but Draco pulled him back.

“Should we say hello to your parents?”

Charlie looked into the room and caught his mother’s eye. She smiled brightly at him and nodded - the twinkle in her eye promising an interrogation the next day. He grinned back at her and turned to Draco.

“No need – Percy or Ron must have said something to them down in the kitchen. C’mon, it’s nearly our anniversary,” He tugged Draco into the room, “let’s celebrate.”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione exclaimed suddenly, pointing at Draco, “You said at the Ministry that your anniversary was the first!”

“The Ministry?” Harry asked, his face scrunched up. “But Hermione, you weren’t working on Monday.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side, “No, this was earlier today.”

“Ah,” Draco interjected awkwardly, “I uh – As I said in the lift, I got the days wrong. Wasn’t meant to be there on Monday.”

“Poor Glinda,” Charlie shook his head amusedly, “she thought she’d overslept by two days when she saw Draco waiting outside the office.”

“Glinda Kipskirt?” Harry asked, somehow knowing every single Ministry worker by name. “What were you doing in magical creatures?”

Before Draco could respond Hermione spoke, “I tried to get that out of him earlier, to no avail. But _Reserv_ _ă-_ ” She somehow managed to butcher the pronunciation, “-that’s Romanian, I’m assuming. Something to do with the dragons?”

Charlie nodded, “We needed permission to bring the Opaleye over to the UK for the next few months.” He rubbed his neck as he spoke, hoping Ron and Hermione wouldn’t ask too many questions, “I’m the only one who she trusts so unless they want an international crisis on their hands for letting a dragon starve by not allowing them in the country… Besides, she’s very well trained – polite, for a dragon – even if she is completely stand-offish with anyone that isn’t me. But _Merlin_ is she a stunner. Her scales-”

_TEN_

Charlie’s ramble about his dragon was thankfully cut off before it could last for over an hour.

Ginny snorted and shouted over her family’s chanting, nodding at Draco, “Sound’s like someone else we know.”

_FIVE_

Charlie looked up at Draco with a wicked grin and the blond groaned into his shoulder – they’d had that conversation before, and he _hated_ it.

_TWO_

Charlie put his fingers under Draco’s chin to lift his head.

_ONE – Happy New Year!_

The kiss was small, sweet because his family were still in the room, but full of love. Draco sighed happily, pleased that his former enemies were too preoccupied with their own significant others to pay any mind to his vulnerable state.

“Happy anniversary, Opal,” Charlie whispered against his lips.

Draco let his head drop back onto Charlie’s shoulder with a louder groan that caught the attention of the rest of the family, “How many times do I have to say it; I do _not_ look like an Opaleye!”

“But Draco… _Dragon_ … Your white hair… Your pretty eyes… You’re never going to win this argument babe, you know this.” Charlie winked at his family over Draco’s head and they all stifled a collective laugh – apart from George who outright squawked and received an elbow to the gut from Bill for it.

Draco lifted his head and glared playfully at Charlie, “I went my whole life with no one but my mother and father ever knowing that connection and then I bloody-well had to fall in love with a dragon tamer, didn’t I?”

“Aww, you love me, that’s cute.” Charlie was still grinning cheekily, distracting Draco from the way his hand was disappearing into his jacket.

“Shut up, you imbecile.” Draco huffed, trying to hide his amusement with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s sweet, really,” Charlie said, his voice becoming more serious. “Honestly, this would be a bit embarrassing if you didn’t.”

There was a collective gasp from the Weasley family and their spouses as they all noticed the small box in Charlie’s hand. Draco looked around at them all confused before following their gazes to the box. He looked up sharply at Charlie.

“You are _not_ doing this in front of your family. In front of- of _Potter._ ” Draco hissed, mortified, and Charlie laughed.

“They’d kill us both if I didn’t.” Charlie laughed again as a few of his (okay, _all_ of) siblings hummed and nodded in agreement. “They’ll also kill you if you say no, just saying.”

“It’s a good job I’d never dream of it then, isn’t it?” Draco said quietly, holding onto Charlie’s hands around the box. “This better not have an opal set in it.”

The rest of the family laughed and cheered as Charlie pulled Draco down into a much longer kiss.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all looked at each other and silently agreed that they definitely preferred this version of Draco Malfoy. What could they say? Charlie was good at his job.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it :)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very, very much appreciated and don't hesitate to check out my other fics as well ! <3


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